Short Story: Torn Down, Softly. (Updated 8/27)

[WBDaddy]

This is one I was inspired to write for some of my new friends over at Fetlife, to explore the psychology behind our particular brand of BDSM. It's also my first effort to write in 2nd person, present tense, which is a very interesting POV, I must say.

(edit)

As I get deeper into this, I'm beginning to realize it sounds oddly like a ZorroAB story. While I've never actually read one of his bits in its entirety, it does feel eerie to me, and if I'm inadvertently plagiarizing parts of his work in the mix here, I do apologize in advance; this is completely unintentional if it has indeed happened.

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1

You pull up in front of a somewhat sad-looking little house in a questionable neighborhood. It's not ghetto, but it isn't exactly Park Place either. You double-check the address on your GPS. Yes, this is the right place. You were excited at the idea of playing sub for a master who wasn't into the violence, someone who had a softer touch, someone like... him.

You manage to quell your trepidation long enough to get out of the car. He told you to dress conservatively, but you couldn't help yourself; you had to play the tease a bit with your favorite black leather mini and a very low-cut satin top, with a pair of tall black stilettos completing the ensemble, and a pair of crotchless lace panties you bought just for the occasion making you feel especially naughty. A stray whistle from down the street disturbs your concentration as you approach the door.

Before you can ring the doorbell, the door opens. He stands several inches taller than you, even in your heels, which takes you somewhat by surprise as he stands aside, motioning you inside. He's dressed very, very casually, in a simple polo shirt and blue jeans, which suddenly makes you feel uncomfortably overdressed for this encounter. Was this supposed to just be a friendly thing? you ask yourself as you step past him and into the sparsely furnished living room.

He closes the door and looks you up and down, brows furrowed over his penetrating brown eyes. Suddenly a smile breaks from within his pencil-line beard. "How sweet. Little girl wanted to play dress-up for me?"

Stunned, you nod slowly, unable to respond to such a strange statement. Before you have a chance to process, he walks around behind you and tugs the back of your skirt. "Naughty, naughty." he says. You're not sure how to take this.

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as he leans in and whispers, "Such a sweet, innocent little girl, dressing like a whore. This won't do at all."

He places his hands softly on your hips and guides you down a hallway and into what appears to be his bedroom, as sparsely furnished as the room you just left. "Naughty, naughty little girl. Daddy is very disappointed in you." he says as he unzips your skirt and drops it to the ground.

"Arms up." he commands. Still bewildered, you comply, and you find your shirt being lifted up over your head. A vague sense of shame begins to creep into you as you stand there in your bra and panties as he continues to express his dismay at your choices. He removes the bra and tosses it aside, then reaches into a desk drawer and produces a pair of shears, which he then uses on the panties you just bought, stripping them away from your crotch.

The shame is even more intense now, but with it comes a vague sense of arousal as he leads you to the bed and lays you down on it. The comforter is incredibly soft, almost like fur, on your back as you watch him lift each leg, removing your heels and tossing them aside as well.

"Whatever am I going to do with you, little girl?" he says quietly. "You deserve a good spanking for dressing up all slutty like that."

He was supposed to be different! your mind screams at you as you shudder at this revelation. He wasn't into that, he said!

"Yes, that's exactly what you deserve, but I've got a better idea." he says with a smile as he opens a drawer in his dresser. You try to crane your neck a bit to see, but he withdraws a paper shopping bag, its contents still a mystery, and places it on top of the dresser, far above your line of sight from the bed. One thing that isn't a mystery for long is the bundle of pink fabric he produces.

"Stand up." he says. Still trembling, you comply. He shakes out what has to be the most childish-looking camisole you've ever seen. It's girlishly pink, and instead of straps, its neckline is so tight you wonder if your head can even fit through it. The sheer material is trimmed in three lines of pink crinoline with lace edges, one across the chest, one on the waist, and one on the hem, which ends just at the top of the thigh, almost comically revealing considering the cut at the neck.

"Arms up." he commands. He gently pulls the negligee down your arms and guides your head through the top. You involuntarily shiver as the satin slides down your body, caressing you in its infantile softness.

"Much better." he says. "Lie down." You can't help but feel a bit giddy at his praise, but your small joy is quickly doused as he reaches back into the bag and produces... It can't be... You've never seen one that big before, but...

[WBDaddy]

2

The shape is unmistakable, as is the soft crinkle as he tosses it casually onto the bed next to you. He casually flips the hem of your cami up, exposing you completely, but your gaze is still fixed on the largest baby diaper you've ever seen. A distant memory is jarred as you realize it looks nearly identical to the ones that were once stacked in your bedroom as a toddler, aside from the front panel being adorned with Hello-Kitty-esque line art of baby animals and smiling moons and other cutesie graphics.

This momentary trance is broken as you feel his well-oiled hand caress you between your legs, reaching into every dark corner of your vagina, and you shudder in response at his soft touch.

"Baby girl likes that, does she?" he coos, almost mockingly, as he wipes his hand on a towel and then begins to cover your crotch with talcum powder. "Don't want us getting a rash, now." he says as you look on in shock, your nose filling with the sweet smell of humiliation on a level you've never experienced before. He unfolds the massive diaper in front of you as your mind races with conflicting feelings of nostalgic comfort and adult embarrassment. He reaches under your knees and lifts your bottom off the bed, sliding the garment underneath you and gently dropping you back down on it, swiftly bringing the front up and taping each side snugly against your waist. The sensation is that of a pillow between your legs, splaying them outward ever so slightly as you tremble.

He chuckles as he pulls the hem of your cami back down. "Sit up." he commands.

You comply, and the rustling of your... the diaper is incredibly loud in your ears, drawing your attention fully to your crotch as you blush involuntarily at your present state. He straddles behind you on the bed, and you feel a brush begin to gently tug at your hair. The snap of an elastic band sounds, and the left side is now drawn taut, followed shortly by the right. You haven't time to wonder what he has in mind next, as his hand reaches around in front of your face and inserts a large latex object between your lips. The bulb is huge, nearly filling your mouth, but this is no ball gag. There's little doubt as you flush even deeper - this is a pacifier. His hand remains firmly against your mouth, holding the huge nipple in until you find yourself involuntarily suckling.

"Good baby." he whispers, sending shivers down your back as you sit motionless, filled simultaneously with ecstasy and shame. A tear finds its way into your left eye as he runs his hands over your shoulders and down your arms. He grasps your right hand and pulls you up to a stand, and you wobble a bit on your forcibly bowed legs. The soft padding rubs against your clit, and you shudder once more and suckle harder on the pacifier. He looks at you with a sweet smile and walks you to the hallway, presenting you in front of a full-length mirror.

The experience of being dressed that way was nothing compared to the shame of seeing yourself in full view, diaper peeking out from under your dress, the pink and white mouth guard and ring on the pacifier in your mouth, and the bead-tied pigtails sprouting from either side of your head.

"That's much more appropriate for a sweet and innocent little girl like you, don't you think?" he says from behind you. Tears cloud your vision as you nod obediently.

"That's right. Good little girls don't dress like whores, and you're going to be a good little girl for Daddy from now on, aren't you?" Once more you nod your submission. "Good." he says. "Good little girls get treats. Bad little girls get spankings. I'd hate to have to spank you, baby girl." He turns you around and embraces you, and you bury your head in his chest, losing yourself in this unexpected tenderness in the midst of your degradation.

The moment lingers on, filling you with euphoria, until it is shattered by a sudden realization... I have to pee!

[WBDaddy]

3

Almost reflexively, you attempt to squeeze your thighs together as the urge hits you. You look toward the toilet just a few feet away, then back up into his eyes as he turns your chin toward him.

"That's not for you." he says knowingly, as he turns you around and walks you back out into the living room.

You reach up to take the pacifier out of your mouth, but he anticipates you again, grasping your hand firmly. "Baby girl doesn't talk unless Daddy gives her permission." he says. You whimper into the mouth guard in response.

Your hand slips down onto the front of your... the diaper as you start to buckle under another urge, and he slaps it away gently. "Babies don't touch their diapers." he says as he pulls you down onto his lap. You are acutely aware of his erection in the small of your back as your bottom hits his legs, a sudden and poignant reminder of the original purpose of your visit.

Daddy reaches around and presses his hand firmly on the front of your... the diaper and begins to rub it up and down. You fight to retain control of your bladder, but the soft padding against your now super-sensitive clit throws you into an immediate ecstasy, and you quickly find yourself bucking against his hand and moaning around the nipple in your mouth. "Yes, baby girl likes that, doesn't she?" he coos as you heave and groan your response.

You reach orgasm and lose the battle at the same time, helplessly trembling as hot liquid escapes from both orifices. The oil and powder did their job, however, as you are only aware of the urine from the heat and the swelling of your... the diaper around it.

Daddy pets you softly as you turn to jelly in his arms and says, "Baby girl feels much better now, doesn't she?"

You whimper again, nodding slowly as your breath returns to you.

"Good. I bet you'd like a diaper change, wouldn't you?"

You nod in response.

"First it's Daddy's turn." he replies, guiding your limp hand behind you and pressing it onto his crotch.

There is no question what he expects, and you consider yourself fortunate that Daddy got you off before you pleasured him. You slip down off his lap and obediently kneel on the carpet in front of him, looking up expectantly.

Daddy opens his fly and shows you his thick penis, then reaches for the ring on your pacifier and pulls it out of your mouth. Your... the diaper is heavy between your legs as you take him in, nearly choking as you try in vain to to make room in your throat. Instinctively you grab the rest with your hands and thrust as you slide him in and out of your mouth, stopping only to gasp a breath here and there as he tenses under your grip. He begins to moan as your pace quickens, which only inspires you to thrust harder. A bit of drool escapes the corner of your mouth as you work furiously, and as your body begins to respond to his pleasure, you find yourself being stimulated once again by the swollen garment between your legs, this time needing no assistance from his hand. Before long you find yourself moaning in sync with him, and his climax almost directly coincides with your own as you greedily swallow your new master's approval, struggling to keep yourself upright as your... the diaper warms up once more with the release of your orgasm.

You lap up the last of Daddy's cum, and he calmly closes his pants back up and strokes your cheek. "You were a very, very, good girl." he sighs as he reaches down and pulls you back onto his lap, embracing you tightly. "Very, very good. Would you like your diaper changed now?"

"Yes, Daddy." you whimper meekly.

"What would you like?" he asks expectantly.

"Would you please change my diaper, Daddy?" Your diaper. The realization sinks in. Yes, it is your diaper, and you definitely need it when you come to Daddy's house.

"I will be happy to change my good little girl's diaper." he says with a smile, taking your hand as you stand on trembling legs in front of him, and guiding you down the hall back toward the bedroom.

A thought occurs to you as you wobble in his steady arms.

"Daddy, can I at least poop in the toilet?"

He laughs as he lays you down on the bed, reaching into the dresser and producing a fresh diaper, a box of baby wipes, the oil, and the powder. "Well that depends," he says, "on whether or not you're going to continue to be a good girl for Daddy."

Not that you needed the reinforcement, as pleasing Daddy was firmly cemented in your subconscious while you knelt before him a few minutes ago, but you shudder at the thought of having to do that in a diaper, never mind sit in it until Daddy was satisfied.

He cleans you thoroughly with a gentle touch that makes you shiver again, then reapplies the oil and powder and tapes you up. He hands you your previously used diaper, now balled up tight, and says "Come, we'll throw this away and get you something nice to drink."

[WBDaddy]

4

He takes your free hand and leads you back down the hall as you clutch the... your soiled diaper. Holding it in your hand returns you to the dirty shame of it, peeing all over yourself while you bucked against Daddy's hand like a filthy whore. He didn't even have to say it; the mere request that you dispose of it yourself was all that was necessary. You hang your head as he walks you into the kitchen, the Italian mosaic tile floor meeting your still-downcast gaze. He stops you and lifts up your chin, meeting your eyes with that penetrating glance. His smile is soft and subtle as he directs your face toward the trash can.

As you drop the bundle and close the lid, he opens the refrigerator and calls out "Will my baby girl be spending the night?"

"No, Daddy, I... have to work tomorrow." You look up and watch him stand up with two... baby bottles in his hands.

"Well then we'll save this one for another time." he says as he puts one back into the fridge and closes the door. He puts his arm around you and guides you back toward the living room as your gaze locks on the reddish-purple liquid contained within the pale pink colored plastic container with a clear nipple securely attached to the top.

"Daddy, I'm not..." you finally manage to protest as he pulls you back into his lap, into the same spot where you shamed yourself just a short time ago, but this objection is cut short as the nipple finds its way into your mouth. It's less obtrusive than the pacifier, and the cool, sweet liquid trickling out of it reminds you that you are indeed thirsty, and have naught but the taste of Daddy's orgasm still on your lips. You suckle it greedily, and he guides your own hand up onto the bottle, which you then grip reflexively as he cradles you tightly. He reaches his free hand around behind the couch and produces a light tan colored teddy bear, just big enough for him to settle into your chest without disrupting your suckling.

As you drink, he strokes the front of the... your diaper once more, less forcefully than before, just enough to stimulate you, and you squeeze that bear tightly against you. "Such a sweet little baby girl," he coos softly. "You love your ba-ba, don't you?"

You nod with a soft whimper, sighing as he continues to press the soft cotton up against your trembling clit. "And you love your bear, too?" Another nod and a near squeak as the pressure from his hand increases.

You're acutely aware of what is happening here, but even if you had the will, you'd be powerless to stop him. He's training you, training you to get excited by peeing in your pants, by sucking on a bottle or a pacifier, by cuddling a stuffed animal. He's turning you into an overgrown toddler, and you're sucking up the shame of it like the juice from the nipple latched firmly between your lips, the pace of which is increasing at this moment as Daddy calmly works you into another frenzied orgasm, the throes of which cause you to drop the nearly empty bottle onto the floor, where it lands with a soft plastic thud.

As you quiver in the afterglow, clutching desperately to the bear at your chest, twitching sporadically while Daddy gently strokes your bare thighs with his fingertips, you realize that you have succumbed to exactly what he promised you: domination without violence. If he'd told you what was going to happen this evening, you'd probably have kicked him off your friends list and blocked his chat. Instead, here you are, putty in his hands, basking in the humiliation and the affection that march hand in hand through your head.

You thoughtlessly release another burst of urine into the... your diaper and nuzzle Daddy's chest. No master has ever offered you such tenderness as part of your slavery, and you are overwhelmed by the rush.

But he's not done yet... There will be more, and it will wake you from this love-drunk stupor...

[babyredhead]

Great story... This is one of my ultimate fantasies!! Can't wait for more!!

[WBDaddy]

Oops... duplication?

[WBDaddy]

Let's try that again...

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5

After another few minutes of cuddling, you hear an old antique clock on the wall begin to chime, and you look up at it in surprise. It sounds a single note; it's one in the morning!

You sigh in disappointment. "Daddy, I need to go now." you whimper, as you begin to shift your legs to stand.

He stands with you, continuing his embrace. "I understand. Good little girls need their rest. Will you be returning tomorrow evening?"

You nod silently. He has accepted you, and now there's no chance of you turning down his offer to return.

He releases you and says, "Wonderful. Don't forget your purse, baby girl."

"But... Daddy... I need my clothes back..." you respond timidly.

He turns you around, his brows furrowed. His tone never changes as he speaks, "I'm very, very disappointed in you."

He may as well have slapped you across the face, as much as those words stung you. He points toward the corner of the room. "Go."

"But..." you protest, tearing up.

"Little girl, go stand in the corner. If you argue with me again, I will spank you."

The threat is enough, and you trudge over to face the wood paneling of the wall next to the fireplace, sniffling in spite of yourself.

"Obviously I did not discipline you well enough for you to remember your lesson about little girls dressing up in slutty women's clothing." he announces.

Guilt now enters your consciousness, guilt over your thoughtlessness, guilt over ruining such a perfect evening, guilt over disappointing your Daddy. Shame fills your face as you weep openly into your hands, the top of your head now leaning into the wall. "I'm sorry, Daddy." you blubber.

He does not respond, but instead you hear his footfalls down the hallway and into the bedroom, then returning a short time later.

"Look at me, baby girl." he commands. You turn around, wiping the tears away from your cheeks as he comes into focus. His left hand is open and flat, and upon it rests your mini-skirt and black string top, along with the bra, the stiletto heels, and the ruined panties.

"Take them." he orders. You walk slowly toward him and nervously grasp the pile of clothes, the shameful outfit you had the audacity to wear in spite of his instruction.

"You choose," he says without emotion, "put them on, walk out that door, and never speak to me again, or throw them in the trash where such filthy things belong."

A chance for reprieve. There can be no hesitation in this decision. You toddle as fast as the... your swelling diaper will allow you, into the kitchen, triumphantly slamming these awful garments into the waste bin. You rush back to the living room and look up at him hopefully, anxious for the tiniest praise to ease the suffering of your guilt.

Your loyalty is rewarded as he smiles and reaches out to embrace you. "Good baby girl." he says softly as he strokes your back, and you glory in his absolution, your head once again buried in his chest.

He allows you that moment, then lifts your chin up. "However," he says, "you still must be punished, to make sure you remember to be a good little girl for Daddy, and not a cheap slut."

Your face contorts into a pout, your lip trembling as you await his judgment, though you know you deserve whatever sentence he hands down.

He reaches back behind you, and you expect an embrace, but instead you hear the sound of tape being pulled from its dispenser. You look down in horror as he wraps the... your diaper in clear packing tape, directly over the tabs on the front panel. "I was going to change your diaper before you left. Now, you can wear this one home instead."

Your eyes widen as you realize that his expectation all along was for you to drive home and walk the three flights of stairs to your top-floor apartment showing off this... your diaper the whole way. And now you must do it with the wetness indicators on the front clearly betraying what you've done in it.

He continues, "When you get home, you will contact me immediately online. I will be waiting for you. You will turn your cam on and show me that you are still dressed appropriately. Understand?"

You nod softly, lip still trembling. You silently pray that the well-lit parking lot is empty tonight, though you know it probably won't be.

"Good girl. I will instruct you further when you get home." He hands you your purse and kisses you softly on the forehead. "Drive safely, baby girl. I'll see you again in a few minutes."

He opens the door, and you nervously waddle out into the dimly lit night, down his front stoop and hurriedly across the street. You reach into your purse and feel something unexpected and vaguely familiar, but your push it aside and dig as fast as you can for your keys, praying no one sees you before you can get into the car. You locate the keyfob and quickly unlock your door, but then you fumble them to the ground as you started to grasp the door latch. Panicking, you bend over and grope for the keys, the rustling of the... your diaper loud in your ears, loud enough, you're quite certain, to wake the neighbors.

Finally you retrieve the keys and scamper into the driver's seat, where you gather yourself with a series of deep breaths. You turn the car on and drive home, paying extra close attention to your speed and the traffic signals, desperate to avoid an encounter with anyone for whom you'll have to try and explain your... choice of apparel. Halfway to the apartment, your bladder awakens once more, and you curse its betrayal. Determined, you hold it the rest of the way home and waddle as fast as you can up the stairs to your apartment, your bare feet voicing their complaint against the cobblestone on the steps.

You hurl yourself into the apartment and slam the door shut. No one saw you, or at least if they did they certainly didn't acknowledge it audibly enough for you to be aware. Still cramping, but still determined to hold on, you creep into your bedroom, hand firmly between your legs, thighs locked in an effort to hold out. Daddy said I just had to show him. He'll certainly let me change for bed, you think to yourself as you turn on your laptop, gritting your teeth through the intensifying cramps. As soon as you log on, his name pops into your chat window.

Hello baby girl. Are you still dressed properly?

You turn on the cam and aim it toward your crotch.

"Yes Daddy, see? I did good."

Yes you did. I'm very proud of you. Were you seen?

"No Daddy, I don't think so."

How tragic.

"Can I take it off now? I have to pee really bad."

No, baby, you may not.

That simple sentence sucks the wind out of you, and you gasp as your bladder overrides your brain and deposits its contents into the thirsty garment.

[fyunch]

Very nice. Good work on the second person POV. Can't wait for the next installment.

[WBDaddy]

6

Still in shock, hands trembling as they find their way back to the keyboard, and you respond...

"But Daddy, I just peed. I'm really, really wet now."

*Good baby girls know they need their diapers on so they don't pee in the bed.*

"But... I'm a good girl."

*Yes you are, and that is why you will get under the covers now and not argue with me anymore. Tomorrow morning, when you wake up, I'll be waiting for you. You will turn your cam on and show me that you still have your diaper on.*

"Yes Daddy."

*Good night, baby girl. Sleep well. I'll see you soon.*

"Good night, Daddy."

You log off, defeated. You hang your head and slink from the chair into the bed. Sleeping on your side or your belly is impossible now, as swollen as your crotch is now. It amazes you how you still feel dry inside the... your diaper with how much you've wet, not to mention the orgasm you had earlier.

In Daddy's presence, under his approving eyes, it was almost a joy to sit in a wet diaper. Now your only company is the shame of it, pissing yourself like an infant. At first your eyes fill with tears, but then something else takes over, something animal. You grab a handful of the sodden mass and ram it against your clit, and a powerful wave of stimulation washes over you. *Dirty little girl!* you scream silently as you flop over onto your belly and slam yourself into the mattress. *Dirty, filthy whore!* You moan and screech into your pillow as you climax again and again, **your** swollen diaper ramming into your clit over and over until you finally collapse onto your back in sweaty, shameful, quivering ecstasy, and sleep claims you.

Your dreams are turbulent, your sleep restless, as images penetrate your mind, Daddy's disappointed face as he looks you up and down.

I thought you were a good girl.

"But I am a good girl!"

No, you're not, you're a dirty little whore, just like you looked when you came to me.

"No, Daddy, I'm not, I promise!"

Fucking yourself like a slut. No, you're a filthy, dirty little girl!

"Daddy, no! I'll be good! I won't do it anymore!"

Get out of my sight, you dirty little whore!

"Daddy, PLEASE!"

Your eyes surge open and you sit bolt upright. You look at the bedside clock. It's six forty-five, mere minutes before your alarm was due to go off. You reach between your legs. Your diaper is positively huge now, and warm, warm enough that you suspect you might have wet again while you slept. The ramifications of this stagger you somewhat, but you gather your wits and waddle over to your desk, logging on.

Good morning baby girl

"Good morning Daddy"

Did you enjoy yourself last night?

How could he...

"No

I mean yes

I mean I didn't

I mean how could you know?"

I know your mind, baby girl. I knew you couldn't resist the temptation to be dirty again and touch yourself there. It's alright, we'll take care of that later. Cam on, please.

Trembling, you comply and show him the now massive weight between your legs, bowing your legs out prominently in the chair.

Good girl. You kept it on all night.

His words were a soft salve on the sting of your shameful deeds and how easily Daddy found you out.

"Thank you Daddy. It's awfully wet, though. Can I please go take it off now?"

Yes you may, baby girl. Go clean yourself up, but come back here before you get dressed, understand?

"Yes Daddy."

I'll be waiting for you, princess.

A new pet name, one that fills your heart with joy as you reach into your desk drawer and grab a pair of shears, nearly cutting yourself as you hack away at the huge, sodden diaper. Finally it comes loose, falling to the floor with an audible *squish*. You recall Daddy doing the same with your grownup... your dirty, slutty crotchless panties that you were so sure Daddy would love.

Now another dirty undergarment stares at you from the floor, one filled with the fruits of your filthy masturbation. You wonder what exactly Daddy meant by "deal with it later", but decide that "later" would be a better time to consider it, as right now you must dispose of your filth and wash your shame off your body, so you can be a good, clean little girl for Daddy.

You throw your diaper in the trash can and take a long, hot shower, scrubbing yourself thoroughly. Daddy did a wonderful job of protecting you; you half expected to have a rash by now, but your skin, after your intense scrubbing, is every bit as pink and healthy as it was yesterday when you stepped out of the shower and into... those filthy whore clothes. You're so glad Daddy made you throw them away, the dirty things.

Once out of the shower, you wrap a towel around your hair and another around your torso. You walk toward the bedroom, enjoying the freedom of movement without your diaper on, but at the same time feeling vulnerable and unprotected with it missing. You tighten your grip on the bath towel as you sit back down at the computer.

"I'm all clean Daddy."

Good girl. What will you be wearing to work?

You hadn't thought this far ahead. What a strange question...

"I guess a pleated black skirt and a white top, like I usually do." Strictly business in the typing pool, for those who wanted any chance of being promoted out of that miserable pit.

How long of a skirt?

You start to type, then rethink. "Below the knee, definitely. No more whore clothes for me, Daddy."

Very good. I have a present for you, in your purse. Go get it, please.

You recall something strange in there last night as you went for you keys, but completely forgot about it. Now you open it up and are dumbstruck at what you see.

You run back to the computer. "Daddy, I can't wear that to work! Someone will see! I'll be ridiculed! They might even fire me!"

You will wear it to work, baby girl. You will wear it and remember that I am your Daddy and I am waiting for you to come back when you are done.

"But what if someone sees it and asks me about it?"

You tell them you have a bladder infection, and they will not question it any further.

"Yes, Daddy." Part of you is elated that, while it isn't a big thirsty baby diaper like Daddy put on your, the pull-up will at least make you feel safe again.

Go put your diaper on, please.

"Yes, Daddy." You walk back out to the kitchen counter where you left your purse and fetch the pull-up garment. After you move it, you notice he also left you a small bottle of baby powder. You walk into the bathroom, drop your towel, and fill your hand with the sweet-smelling talc, and you shiver with the recollection of pleasure associated with it. You rub yourself down with it thoroughly, back and front, then put your feet one at a time into the pull-up, sliding it up your legs. It's much, much thinner than the diaper. You wonder if it could even handle a wetting like you had last night. You walk back over to the desk and sit back down, turning your cam back on.

"Thank you for the new underwear, Daddy" you post dutifully.

You're very welcome, princess. There's that word again, and it makes you tingle.

"Can I put my clothes on now?"

Yes you may. Pack an extra set for tomorrow, baby girl, and come straight over here after work.

That can only mean one thing, and you're elated at the idea; you'll be sleeping with Daddy tonight instead of alone with your dirty thoughts and your shame.

"Yes, Daddy!" You practically squeal with delight as you run to the closet and hurriedly dress for work, your rustling underwear a complete afterthought.

You scramble to get yourself ready, brushing your teeth, gobbling down a cereal bar with some cold coffee from yesterday morning, pulling on a pair of sensible flats, and practically bursting out the door, shopping bag of clothes swinging alongside your purse as you dash toward your car.

Shame you didn't notice his last message:

I expect them to be wet when you get here.

[baby bear]

Well done I think you got zorro by a long shot

Your story is not an ad or selling point

I can tell you enjoy writing for the pleaure of your self and you're readers

Two thumbs up

[Fulldiaper]

Excellent. Please continue.

[WBDaddy]

I confess, there is a device in this chapter inspired by another great bondage-fest published here before, though his usage of it was a LOT more brutal than mine. But then, this is a tale of a different kind of domination...

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7

Work was, well, the drudgery to which you have long since grown accustomed, though your underwear certainly provides a bit of naughty excitement for you, as you daydream about returning to Daddy's arms tonight. Every rustle reminds you of his caress, and it's a struggle to remain focused on the mundane keyboard pounding in front of you.

You finally grind your way through your shift, stopping at the bathroom on the way out; Daddy will be so pleased with me for staying dry, you think as you find your way back to your car and drive as quickly as possible back to Daddy's house on the other side of town.

Once again, when you arrive at the door, purse and spare clothes in hand, the door opens before you have a chance to ring the bell. This time, giddy as a schoolgirl, you practically leap into his arms. "I missed you Daddy!"

"Yes, I can see that." he replies with a chuckle as he closes the door. Still embracing you with his right hand, he reaches under your skirt and pinches the pull-up.

"All dry, Daddy. I did good!" you exclaim.

"I thought not." he says, a scolding edge in his voice.

What did I do wrong? you think to yourself in disbelief as you step back a bit, pouting. "But..." you start.

"You made several mistakes this morning, little girl. The first and biggest is you did not wait for my permission to leave."

All the joy is sucked out of you like a vacuum, and you fold your hands in front of you and drop your head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"And because you did not wait for my permission, you did not read the last message I sent you - that I expected your day diaper to be wet when you arrived."

"But I..." Your protest it cut off swiftly by a pacifier into your mouth.

"I told you before, baby girls do not speak until Daddy gives them permission. You are disappointing me terribly today, little one."

You chew on the nipple as the heat comes in waves over your face. So excited, so ready to make Daddy happy, but you failed so thoroughly, in such a short time.

"You were already going to be punished for the dirty thing you did last night, though I had planned to be gentle with you. Now, well, you've done nothing that I asked while you were gone, and forgotten all my rules as well. It's clear you need discipline, and plenty of it."

Tears start to roll down your cheeks. Surely tonight is the night he spanks you. He told you he wasn't into that sort of thing, but clearly you have exhausted this loving, patient master to the point where you deserve punishment beyond what he prefers to give. Trembling, you raise your hand as you sniffle, head still down.

He removes the nipple from your mouth and says "Yes, baby girl?"

"Daddy?"

"Speak."

"Am I going to get a spanking?" You sound every bit the remorseful toddler as you say this, which just amplifies your shame.

"No, baby girl, you're not going to get a spanking. I told you I don't do that. I have many forms of discipline available to me that do not involve violence, and should you manage to exhaust them all and still fail to submit, I will not hesitate to show you the door rather than strike you."

Now the floodgates open up and you weep openly, covering your face with your hands. It doesn't matter what he intends to do, only that you know you deserve it all and more, and that you'll do anything he asks tonight to see that smile and hear him say the word... princess... again.

He pulls you to him once again, replacing the pacifier and holding your head against his shoulder, embracing you fully. "It's okay to cry, baby girl. Let it all out. Daddy knows you don't mean to be naughty. Daddy knows you can't help it, that's why Daddy's here to teach you."

After a few minutes, you calm down enough to gather your wits, and you look up at him expectantly. He removes your pacifier again and says "Speak, little one."

"I'm ready to be punished, Daddy," you reply, as stoically as you can manage.

"That's a good girl." he says with a smile, replacing the nipple. "Come with me."

You follow as he leads you down the hall toward the bedroom, but the door is closed. He stops and draws a blindfold across your eyes, then opens the door and leads you in. With a quick swipe, your skirt is unzipped and drops to the floor. His hands quickly work through the buttons on your blouse, and it disappears as well. Bra comes next, leaving you still in the dark, now wearing nothing but the pull-up and a pair of shoes, and you suckle nervously. His sure hands rip the sides of your pull-up apart and strip them away, and all at once you are naked on the bed exactly as you were last night, only blind as well.

After removing your shoes, you feel him oil and powder your crotch thoroughly, a very reassuring and safe feeling that briefly quiets your anxiety. He then begins to slide another pull-up gently up your legs, stopping only to pick you up by your knees to lift your bottom. This time, though, he says "Hold this position, little one."

You comply, though awkwardly, and the sliding continues, until the garment crosses your kneecaps - then something else begins to slide with it: something absolutely huge sliding into your well-oiled pussy; something very, very hard, and covered with various little protrusions at different angles and depths, and as the pull-up approaches your waist, so also does the object continue deeper and deeper as you squeal in surprise at each movement of it. By the time the garment is in its proper position, you feel quiet certain you've taken a foot or more of hard rubber into your vulva, and you quiver, still struggling to hold position as this mammoth dildo tickles well beyond your G-spot.

You hear the familiar rustle of a real diaper underneath you, which confuses you even more as you tremble, every slight movement exaggerating the fullness inside you and shifting it around into places no man has ever been before.

He taps your leg gently, and you drop down, getting a fresh poke and letting a squeal loose behind your pacifier. This is quickly followed by a full screech as you feel the palm of his hand connect solidly with the base of this mass and shove it forward, followed by a light "click" sound. It starts to slide back out ever so slowly, agonizingly, every rib and spine on the device contacting flesh, and then is forced once more back up to the very top of you as Daddy pulls the diaper taut against your stomach and tapes you in. Pain, and pleasure, with every twitch, every shift of your body, so much that you are only peripherally aware of how incredibly thick the combination of the two garments between your legs are, you are so focused on the Damoclean sword firmly wedged in your loins.

"I told you babies don't touch themselves." he speaks as you tremble, still blindfolded on the bed. "Your orgasms belong to me, and you stole one from me last night." You feel him sit down next to your head, followed by a hand gently stroking your cheek. "Tonight, you will learn that greedy little girls don't stay happy for long."

He removes the blindfold, revealing your eyes still bulging in near terror at the device he has created for you. "Sit up." he commands.

You flex your stomach and start to lean up, but the motion forces the massive phallus even deeper than before, and you drop back down with a squeal, nearly hyperventilating through your nose. You look up at him in panic, but he is unmoved. "Sit up."

You try again, but the intensity is too great, and you find yourself paralyzed once more on your back, nearly in tears as you suckle furiously on your pacifier, fixing your gaze on his face and whimpering.

"Does baby girl need help sitting up?" he says softly, knowingly.

You nod slowly. You have no desire whatsoever to experience what you know is coming, but Daddy isn't going to take no for an answer.

He stands above you at the end of the bed and stretches out his hands before you, just at the edge of your arm's reach. "Take my hands, baby."

Trembling, you try to reach up, but just as your fingertips nearly reach his, it shifts again, and you screech once more, flattening back to the bed. You bawl helplessly, terrified to move at all now.

You follow him with your tear-clouded eyes as he walks back around to the side of the bed, drops to a knee, and whispers in your ear. "This is your first lesson. I can give you pleasure, or I can give you pain, or I can even give you both, but you cannot have either without me. Understand?"

You nod slowly once more, the only movement you trust will not cause another surge of sensations in your belly. He wipes the tears away from your cheek and kisses you softly, then whispers, "Good, good girl. Lay still, princess, while I get your clothes ready, so we can go for a walk together."

Such a benign word, strange how absolutely terrifying it is to you. A walk. He couldn't possibly have meant that, could he?

[hiddenname150]

Interesting Can't wait for more.

[babyredhead]

LOVE this story!!!

[exhex]

Just because of the lack of second-person present tense stories, it's inevitable that you might draw comparisons to the (very) few other writers who use that style. Still, I thought this took the approach in a different direction and was a really great read. The italicized phrases, the thoughts of your playmate, intrigue me though, as being in the context of this style of story they almost come off as the thoughts that she is being forced to have through your actions and your control.

Looking forward to more.

[diaperpt]

WB, another great one. I love the uncertainty she has in this relationship; she wants so much to please him, but in her uncertainty she cannot help but fail and be punished.

[WBDaddy]

Thanks for the comments everyone. Between Naomi, this, and some music projects I have cooking, my time has been a bit stretched out lately, but I should be able to get some work done on it on Monday.

[WBDaddy]

Wow, that was quite a long Monday, wasn't it?

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After what seems an eternity of waiting, motionless, scarcely daring to breath for fear of another assault of sensation, Daddy returns, a huge mass of lace and crinolin and other fabrics in predominantly pastel colors draped across his arm.

"Good girl, lying still for Daddy," he reassures. You nod silently, terrified at the fresh waves of pain and stimulation about to beset you. He sets the pile of fabric next to you on the bed, still looking more like a heap than any specific clothing, and withdraws a pair of frilly white bloomers, trimmed with elastic at both waist and legs, just long enough to cover your hips and not much more. As he reaches for your ankles, you reflexively close your eyes tightly, and an involuntary whimper escapes your nose.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" he asks, "I thought you liked playing in your diaper?" You shake your head gingerly.

"No? Baby girl didn't have fun last night playing in her diaper?" You nod, defeated.

"That's right, and now she's going to play some more, only now she has something to play with in there." The bloomers slide up your legs. The material is so incredibly soft, you'd actually be enjoying him putting them on you, were it not for...

"MMMMMMMM!" you shriek as he scoops up your knees, shifting your diaper and with it the terrible torment inside of it, bringing you a fresh surge of overstimulation with an edge of pain. Your back arches in response, legs still firmly held under his arm, and your breathing quickens. Another surge as he sets your bottom back down on the bed brings more squealing. You feel as though you may pass out from the sheer sensational overload as an orgasm wracks your body with shudders and shifts the cruel device around inside you even more.

He releases his grasp on your legs, and now you're in a spiral, flailing around helplessly as your body reacts, your violent movements increasing the stimulation, screaming, wailing, as a series of orgasms hammer through you. After a full agonizing minute of convulsing through climax after painful climax, your helpless shifting around on the bed creating a rhythm all its own through which the device moves up and down inside of you, you eject the soother from your mouth and begin to shriek, "DAD...DY...PLEASE...NO...MORE..." deteriorating into incomprehensible babbling between heaving sobs. You feel Daddy's hand take yours, but he is silent.

Eventually, the sheer volume of your secretions, coupled with your vaginal walls widening as if to escape the torment and the numbness of an endorphin overload in your brain shut down your involuntary reactions, and you lie there, sobbing, gasping for air, as limp as a rag doll. Then his voice comes, cutting through the fog. "It's alright, baby girl. All done now. All done."

He slips the pacifier back between your lips and continues to whisper reassurances as he slides the bloomers back down to your still trembling thighs, pulls the tapes apart on your diaper, and rips the sides down of the pull-up.

"Easy, baby girl, easy. Just relax," he whispers as he pulls the device slowly back out of your quivering pussy, deftly avoiding your involuntary leg jerks in the process. The sudden shock of a cool wipe across your still-sensitive skin brings forth another whimper, and he responds warmly, "It's alright, Daddy's just cleaning you up, baby girl."

He gently lifts your legs once more and removes the pull-up, then adds another layer of powder and tapes your diaper up. Through what is now little more than sniffling, you feel him lift you up gently by your shoulders, and all at once your head is cradled in the crook of his arm, and he rocks you gently.

"I'm sorry that had to happen, baby girl, but doing dirty things to yourself when Daddy's not there means you don't love Daddy enough to wait for him."

It takes every ounce of energy you can muster to move your deadened limbs, but you manage to curl up into Daddy's lap, nuzzling your apology into his chest.

[diaperpt]

Wow! Just imagine if he made her keep that inside her for more time! I wonder if we'll go on to new punishments or return to another administration of this punishment; she wants to be a good girl, but I doubt she'll be able to for long.

[ohiobabygirl]

I hope you havent forgotten this story